Dear Dead People On my Bed
by ChibiCreep
Summary: "Just because you can't see something doesn't mean they don't exist." were the words her mother had put in her head. She had never really understood them, until she saw the two soldiers and the twins sitting on her bed. Her house is toxic, like poison to her. She needs to get out, and her dead friends might help her. Warnings inside.


**Author note: Hi! I'm back once again! For the people who are following my other story, Chocolate Cake, I'm sorry. There was just too many things going on. I will update is soon, thought, so stay in check! This is a new story of mine, that I've been working on for a while. Updates will be pretty often! I don't know how long it will be, and I'd like you to, once again, give ideas for chapters! there is indeed a storyline but I'd like to know what you want to see in-between the big events of the story!**

 **This will include Pepperony, Clintasha, Stucky, and if you want others, then let me know!**

 **This story includes many characters, events and ideas from the original Marvel Universes but I will be changing some things. I hope you like what I do with them!**

 **Without further talking, here we are, the prologue of "Dear Dead People On my Bed"!**

 **Things within the Marvel universe do not belong to me, only the story and my OCs do. If it did, Stucky would be canon and I would be married to Peggy Carter.**

 **Warnings: This story will later talk about physical and mental abuse, major character deaths, rape, domestic violence, kidnappings, illnesses, murders and will have scenes of child abuse. although it will be not explicit.**

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Prologue

When you die, where do you go? I there a magical place awaiting you with open arms? Is there a dark pit of flammes chanting your name? Or do you simply wander in nothingness for eternity? Unless you are stuck forever on that big rock we call Earth, and you are forced to stay there, unseen but feared by the living and pitied by the dead who have already left.

And what exactly is death? Is it when you cease to breathe, when your heart stops beating? Or when your soul leaves your enveloppe made of flesh and blood? Do you die a little when someone you loved dearly leaves?

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"Miss Damrey?"

It took him everything to stop from sighing and abandoning when he received no response.

"Miss Damrey, what thoughts are haunting your mind right now?"

For a minute, the only sounds heard in the room were the breathings of the doctor and his patient and the ticking of the old clock, which the girl's silver eyes seemed attached to.

"Steve doesn't like you." She whispered.

"Why doesn't he like me?" a bead of sweat rolled down the man's face. It was getting colder in the room and shivers ran down his spine, but his stress made his skin greasier by the second.

"He doesn't lie bullies."

He tugged a little at the collar of his shirt.

"Am I a bully, Miss Damrey?"

She nodded and his breath got stuck in his throat.

"Who is Steve, Miss Damrey? Is he one of your… friends?"

"You're asking me if he is a voice in my head, aren't you, doctor?" was the girl's immediate answer.

He didn't dare say yes.

"Miss Damrey, who exactly is Steve?"

"He's my friend."

"And where is he?"

She pointed to the clock. "Right there. He's frowning. You should try to be friendly, Steve."

The doctor hands were shaking. He looked around the room, a small voice in his head yelling at him to get up and run. But the girl's eyes were now on him, daring him to say something or flee.

"Are you aware that Steve doesn't exist, Miss Damrey? You should know that he is not real. He is a creation of your imagination."

He regretted the words as soon as they flew out of his mouth, seeing the frown now decorating her pale face.

"Just because you can't see something doesn't mean they don't exist, _doctor_."

The words were smoothly seeping from her lips like poison directed at him.

"Now you've made them mad." she sighed.

The only question resonating in his head stayed on his lips, unspoken. _Who did I anger?_

The clock came first. It fell forward, breaking itself on the floor like a body on rocks. Luckily, the patient was far enough not to get hurt by it, but that much couldn't be said about the doctor. Pieces of wood, glass and metal flew in the air. Then the frames on the wall exploded, one at a time. All the glass in the room was shattered by an invisible fist.

He yelled until his vocal cords broke, pointing at his patient. " _Witch!_ "


End file.
